The Time of Aspen Falls

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The Time of Aspen Falls Page 25

by Marcia Lynn McClure


  “She’s beautiful,” Aspen whispered.

  Rake paused in pulling on the other boot, glaring at her a moment.

  “Yeah…she is,” he grumbled. He pulled on the other boot and grabbed a black leather jacket hanging on a hook nearby. “Come on,” he said, taking hold of Aspen’s hand and pulling her to her feet. “We’re going for a drive.”

  It was a command, not a request.

  “Y-you need a shirt,” she stammered as he led her toward the front door.

  “I don’t need nothing,” he growled, hefting her onto his shoulder and opening the front door. Carrying her over the threshold and out into the cold winter night, Rake slammed the door behind them.

  Aspen’s stomach bounced against his shoulder as he carried her toward his pickup. She didn’t understand why he felt the need to haul her away like she were a sack of flour. She was perfectly capable of walking, even if she was blinded by the tears still streaming from her eyes.

  Her tears only increased in profusion as he deposited her in the passenger’s seat of his pickup, rather than sliding her in from the driver’s seat as he normally did. He angrily buckled her seat belt for her, slammed the door, and stormed around to the driver’s side. Aspen sat shivering against the cold vinyl of the seat—shivering with fear and hurt and heartbreak.

  The engine roared to life, and Rake peeled out of his driveway. He didn’t say a word until they were through the first stoplight and traveling west.

  “I knew Serena in high school,” he said. “She was the hottest girl in the school, and she was totally freaked out over me, for some reason…pursued me like you can’t even imagine.”

  Aspen swallowed and brushed tears from her cheeks. She was trembling—uncontrollably trembling—even though she wasn’t cold.

  “We started going out after we graduated,” he continued. “I don’t know where my head was. I guess I was just a guy…you know…flattered because the hot chick liked me. Plus, I didn’t know where I was going. I was riding rodeo and just sort of…you know…sailing…and Serena was along for the ride.” He paused, breathing a heavy sigh, seeming to calm down somewhat. “My family couldn’t stand her…and she was smothering me…completely smothering me. She was so possessive and demanding. But she was familiar, you know. And besides, she’d freak out every time I’d try to cool it down or break it off with her. She’d tell me she was gonna kill herself…go off on these screaming rage tantrums. She was a psycho.”

  Aspen brushed the tears from her cheeks—tried not to gasp as she cried. Rake reached over, opened the glove compartment, and handed her a box of tissues.

  “So one day…I’d had it,” he continued. “I woke up and realized what a total idiot I’d been…what a stupid coward I was. So I met her at a restaurant for dinner after work one night…told her I wanted to break up with her. I gave her this whole bunch of bull about how she was too good for me…how I couldn’t take being her boyfriend because of all the other guys who wanted her and crap like that. But she didn’t buy it. She ran out of the restaurant cussing and crying.” He sighed and shook his head—rubbed his forehead the way Aspen had seen him do on occasion when he had a headache.

  “Well, I followed her out to her car…because she had me conditioned, thinking she was going to kill herself every time I mentioned breaking up…right? So I walk out into the parking lot to find her—to make sure she’s okay—and she hit me with her car.”

  “What?” Aspen gasped, shocked from silence.

  “She plowed right into me,” he said. “Broke my right leg doing it.”

  “You’re kidding me,” Aspen asked.

  Rake shook his head. “Nope. She backed up and tried to get me again…but I was able to get out of her way in time.” He breathed a sigh and shook his head. “I guess we’re all allowed to be the fool once in our life…right?” He looked to Aspen, and she nodded.

  “So then, like, two months later, she stops by my dad and mom’s house and tells them she’s pregnant…that it’s my baby and I better marry her and make it legitimate.”

  Aspen gazed out the window, watching the headlights illuminating the black pavement as they drove.

  “I told my parents she was lying, but she wouldn’t quit,” he said. “She kept telling everybody the baby was mine. She dragged my name through the mud. But it bit her in the butt when she tried to take it too far. She actually tried to get child support, and the court ordered a test.”

  “A paternity test?” Aspen asked.

  Rake nodded. He looked at her, his eyes narrow with indignation. “In case you’re still wondering, it proved I wasn’t the father.”

  Aspen winced and looked away from him, ashamed to have doubted him in the first place—devastated her doubt had stripped her from his heart.

  “The paternity test proved she was lying, and I thought it was over…until she showed up at my girlfriend’s house a couple of years ago with the same song and dance she just spun on you.”

  “D-did your girlfriend believe it?” Aspen asked—afraid of his answer—already knowing what his answer would be.

  “Oh, she bought it all right…hook, line, and sinker,” he affirmed. He ran a hand through his hair, a saddened smile spreading across his face. “It’s funny how people are so willing to believe the worst about you…even when they should know better.” He looked at her, glaring through narrowed eyes. “Isn’t it funny the way that always works?”

  “If-if I’d really believed her…I wouldn’t have shown up at your house at one in the morning,” Aspen said.

  “Maybe,” he said, pulling the truck to a stop. “And I should’ve told you about it before she had the chance to plant any doubt in your mind.” He chuckled and rubbed his forehead again. “But the funny thing is…girls always assume that I’m…you know…that I sleep around. I’ll date a girl…never touch her, never try to take her to bed…and she’ll still operate on the assumption that I’m…you know…”

  “Promiscuous,” Aspen finished for him.

  “I see you know exactly what I mean,” he growled. He was angry, lumping her in with every other girl he’d ever known.

  “I-I just thought you were a serial killer,” she reminded.

  His expression softened a bit; a slight chuckle even escaped his throat. “Yeah…I’m just raking in the character references tonight.”

  “I-I am sorry, Rake,” Aspen began. “It’s just that…I was tired. And…and I admit it. I’m always afraid something will happen to take you away from me. So I guess…I guess I just thought a little boy who tied you to another woman would be it.”

  Rake sighed, frowning. He gazed out the windshield to the lights of the city below. He hated Serena—hated her for what she’d put him through—hated her for planting doubt in Aspen’s mind. He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the expression on Aspen’s face when he’d opened the door not fifteen minutes before—the undeniable expression of utter heartbreak. He tried to imagine how she’d felt—being at work at one a.m., a strange and admittedly beautiful woman walking in and claiming a little boy belonged to him. He grimaced, knowing it was his fault—none but his. He should’ve told Aspen about the mess with Serena a long time ago. But the fact was, he’d been afraid—afraid she’d bolt and run. He glanced at her, his heart aching as she brushed more tears from her pretty cheeks. Aspen hadn’t bolted, however. She’d come to him. She’d come to him to hear the truth.

  “You know,” she began, “I’ve got her number.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Your friend Serena,” she explained. “She didn’t tell me all that to get me to break up with you. She told me because she knew that when you thought I didn’t trust you anymore…” She looked at him, her beautiful eyes filled with tears and pain. “She knew you’d break up with me. You broke up with that other girlfriend, didn’t you, Rake? The one who bought Serena’s story hook, line, and sinker…as you put it. You cut her loose, didn’t you?”

  “I cut her loose, as you put it, because s
he didn’t mean that much to me,” he grumbled. “Among other reasons.”

  Aspen nodded. “It’s her unexpected MO…to destroy your trust in a person,” she began, glancing over at him, “not to destroy another person’s trust in you. And it looks to me like it works just the way she wants it to.”

  She was right. It was only in that moment he realized that Serena had always done just that. He’d quit dating several girls after Serena had pulled her strings. Yet he knew it was only that Serena’s junk offered him the exit—the exit he’d already been looking for in his other relationships. Rake didn’t want an exit from Aspen. That was the big difference. Rake wanted to keep Aspen—always.

  Yet his heart was hammering so hard he was sure it would bust right out of his chest. Did she still love him? Knowing he’d kept such an important part of his past from her—letting her go along so completely unprepared to face Serena—could she forgive him for it?

  He wanted to hold her, to reach out and pull her into his arms, to kiss her mouth raw! He couldn’t lose her—not Aspen. She was so very different from anyone else he’d ever known—so much a part of his soul—he couldn’t lose her. Yet he was rattled—humiliated by the fact he’d ever even been involved with someone like Serena, that he’d kept the truth of it from Aspen. How would he sew up this mess—earn her trust again?

  Aspen glanced out through the windshield. The lights of Albuquerque glistened below in the valley, mirroring the stars twinkling overhead. She tried to appear calm outwardly, but inwardly she was in a state of panic. She was about to lose the only man she had ever loved—the only man she could ever love! He’d cut her loose, just like he had the other girlfriend who’d doubted him. One moment of doubt and she’d lost everything; her world was shattering.

  She considered begging—dropping to her knees and begging his forgiveness. It wouldn’t work, of that she was certain, but she thought about doing it anyway. She closed her eyes, remembering their first date—the way they’d lingered together above the lights, talked for hours upon hours. Aspen’s heart hurt. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to ease the pain there.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it, Aspen.”

  His voice startled her, almost as much as his unexpected apology.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I-I should’ve told you about it…before she had the chance to try and cause a problem between us.”

  Try? Had he said she’d tried to cause a problem? Did that mean she hadn’t? Aspen’s heart began to race with hope.

  “You’re not mad at me anymore?” she asked.

  “Why would I be mad at you, Aspen?” he asked. Aspen was breathless—awed by the sudden and very familiar smolder in his dark eyes. Yet still—she feared to hope.

  “Y-you’re not gonna cut me loose?” she squeaked.

  He grinned, pure mischief playing across his face. He reached under the seat, producing a large sheathed knife. He pulled the knife from its sheath and leaned toward her, smiling.

  “Of course I’m going to cut you loose,” he said. Aspen gasped as Rake carefully slipped the blade of the knife between her abdomen and the seat belt, cutting the seat belt and freeing her from its restraints. He tossed the knife to the floor, took hold of her coat at the chest, and pulled her across the seat into his arms. “Because I don’t like you sitting so far away…and now you never can again.”

  His mouth was warm and inviting—delicious and familiar—and Aspen didn’t care if he tasted her tears moistening their lips. Her hands pressed against the bareness of his sculpted chest, the sense of his skin against her palms sending butterflies soaring in her stomach. His arms were powerful, securing her against him as he kissed her, and she never wanted him to ease his embrace. She wanted him to hold her forever—never stop kissing her! He put one hand to the back of her head, pressing her mouth more firmly against his own as he tried to quench some passionate thirst. Thirst—that was exactly what his kiss evoked in Aspen—what his touch evoked—a thirst that seemed impossible to satisfy!

  Rake broke the seal of their lips for a moment, gazing down into her eyes as he held her face between his hands. She was so beautiful, in every way he could ever have imagined a woman being beautiful. He was lost—lost in desire and love for Aspen Falls!

  Her eyes were bright, sparkling with emotion, and he could see his reflection in their depths. She loved him! He knew she did. She trusted him too; otherwise she would never have come to him so quickly about Serena. He’d found her, the only woman he would ever love—Aspen Falls.

  “Do you like to kiss me as much as I like to—” he began. But his words were silenced—replaced by a pleased chuckle as Aspen took hold of the front of his leather jacket, pushing him back against the seat as she kissed him hard on the mouth. He kissed her brutally for some time, drinking in the flavor of her mouth, the feel of holding her in his arms.

  Then, once again, he paused, holding her face in his hands, smiling as the words began to bounce around in his head.

  “What?” Aspen asked as Rake gazed at her. His eyes smoldered with barely restrained passion, and she loved it!

  “Just thinking,” he said.

  “Just thinking what?” she asked, smiling.

  “‘Come fall the aspen upon me,’” Rake quoted, smiling at her. He buried a hand in her hair, causing goose bumps to break over her neck and shoulders. “I like that line in the poem. Actually…I like the idea of Aspen falling upon me. Tell me that whole part.”

  Aspen giggled and caressed his cheek with her palm.

  “‘Come, lover!’ cried the mountain,” Aspen began, “‘Oh moon of my autumn heart! Come fall the aspen upon me…Lest golden—”

  She giggled as Rake’s mouth captured hers in a long, moist, lingering kiss.

  “Call me lover again, Aspen Falls,” he mumbled, “and the next paternity test I’m involved in might prove that I am the father of—”

  Aspen gasped and clamped a hand over his mouth.

  “You cannot say naughty things like that, Rake Locker!” she exclaimed, blushing clear to her toes with delight.

  Rake chuckled and pushed her hand away. “Then you better find a way to shut me up.”

  Aspen smiled—brushed her fingers over his lips.

  “I love you,” she whispered, her heart swelling to near bursting in her chest.

  “I love you more,” he said, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand.

  Rake kissed her then—soft and tender—and pulled her against him, softly whispering, “I love you,” trailing tender kisses against her neck.

  

  As he pumped unleaded into the tank of his pickup, Rake glanced up into the convenience store. Aspen stood at the counter, smiling as she paid for a water and the small bottle of Advil she’d insisted Rake needed for his mounting headache. Rake ran a hand through his hair, wishing he hadn’t let his gas tank get so close to empty. He didn’t like getting gas at the station way up on the mesa, especially late at night. Still, he’d been afraid he and Aspen wouldn’t make it home if he didn’t stop, and he couldn’t risk any more time alone in the car with her. His self-control was fading fast.

  The throbbing in his head increased suddenly, and he clicked the pump lock to keep the gas pumping while he rubbed the back of his neck. He thought of Serena then, his resentment of her complete in that moment. He figured the sudden thought of Serena was what had caused his headache to increase so abruptly. He wondered how close he’d actually come to losing Aspen because of Serena’s lies. Rake pressed a fist to his chest as the pain of the thought of losing Aspen gripped him. He could never lose her; he felt sure he’d die if he did.

  Rake continued to massage the back of his neck with one hand as he watched Aspen through the convenience store windows for a moment—watched her friendly manner with the clerk, the way she kept smiling. She must be worn out! She’d worked so late, and now it was nearly four a.m. He wondered how she could be so friendly to a stranger when she must feel like doing no
thing more than falling into bed and sleeping for a week. He chuckled, thinking he’d like to fall in bed with her for a week.

  Rake’s gaze was drawn to the kid standing near the drink section. He was big kid—six foot, at least—and bulky too. He frowned, noting the big, baggy coat the teenager was wearing. As the hair on the back of his neck prickled—as his heart increased its rhythm—Rake felt his feet begin to propel him forward. He broke into a dead run, however, when he saw the kid reach into his coat—saw the kid walk toward the counter where Aspen stood. Every fiber of his being screamed, burned with anxiety and panic, as he reached the door to the store in time to see the kid pull a handgun out of his coat and point it at the clerk.

  “Give it up, man!”

  Aspen turned—gasped when she saw a young man standing behind her holding a gun in his hand.

  “Don’t close that register! Give me the money, man!” the young man shouted.

  “I don’t keep much cash in here,” the man at the register said.

  “Just give me what’s in there, man!” the young man shouted, gripping the gun with both hands to steady his aim.

  Aspen couldn’t breathe. She took a step sideways, away from the cashier, but the gunman pointed the gun at her, and she stopped.

  “Don’t move, chica,” he said. “Just chill, and it’ll be over in a minute.”

  An electronic bell chimed, signaling the front entrance had opened, and Aspen glanced over to see Rake step into the store.

 

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